Memories
by kleptographer of alternates
Summary: As Mao wanders through C.C.'s memories, he reflects upon several defining moments they shared, some sweet, others bitter. A series of self-contained, pre-Deliverance/series one-shots.
1. Duck Hunt

**Author's Introduction: Well, the urge has struck me to write something with them again. It will be part of a series of one-shots set before _Mao of the Deliverance_, memories from Mao and C.C.'s past together which may serve to shed light on their present, and possibly even future. They will be self-contained and not in any particular order, so feel free to read whatever you want. Updates will probably be sparing and whenever, but there will be more, some sweet, some sad. Depends on my mood.**

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><p><strong>PROLOGUE:<strong>

_Under the canopy of emerald lights, Mao strode absently through the seemingly endless hall of floating portraits, watching the scenes which played out therein. Scenes from the life of his beloved C.C., the one whose mind he now lived in, that portion of space mysteriously partitioned off from the rest of C's World through some unknown power she possessed. He was dressed in a flowing white poet's shirt under a long silk coat now, his appearance clean and resplendent. He hadn't heard another's thoughts in what seemed like ages._

_At length, he came once again to the stretch containing the years she had spent with him, pausing to look over the moments, displayed here as if they had been stolen from time itself. Hanging within these portraits, were some of his fondest memories. They were what had made him the man he was today, for better or worse.  
><em>

_He sighed wistfully._

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><p><strong>Duck Hunt<strong>.

"I'm so hungry," little Mao grumbled, clutching his tiny stomach. It was one of the few instances he had been the one to complain first. This one time, of course, it was because C.C. could survive without food, though she certainly enjoyed it.

C.C. sighed wearily. It hadn't helped that it was one of those rare "nice" days in the city, shopping stands popping up all over the streets as throngs of people wandered about in search of a good deal to satisfy their appetites . The scent of fresh fruits and warm baked breads filled the air, collecting in the boy's nostrils and tantalizing his aching stomach.

"This stinks!" Mao said, kicking an empty stray can in frustration. Last night, though scour as they might, they had been unable to find anything decent to eat from the local dumpsters, C.C. being very careful what she fed him so he stayed as healthy as possible. After all, life was hard enough out here on the streets. And to make things worse, their pickpocket fund had run down to three measly coins.

An image of creamy cheese and garlic baked amidst a zesty tomato sauce flashed through C.C.'s mind and her eyes widened. It was sprinkled here and there with bits of prime sausage, all atop a thick crust of fluffy French bread. Shaking her head, she suppressed the beautiful vision sullenly.

"Hey," she heard Mao call up to her suddenly, pulling on the dingy fabric over her leg. He was pointing to a prominent stand ahead, a placard above it reading, "'The Great Ping', _Suan ming_-_Yi Jing_." In the shaded area behind it sat an elderly lady in front of a small table. A single pad of paper and a book filled with rows upon rows of characters arranged into inexplicable tables and formations rested upon its cheap surface, draped by a red cloth. She flashed a toothy grin at a steadily advancing line of clients, greeting each one warmly as her voice fell to a hushed tone.

"What is it?" C.C. asked Mao in a puzzled tone. She was sure he could not have learnt to read very well and her Chinese wasn't much better, so she could not help but wonder what about the scene had caught his attention.

"Maybe she can tell us where to find some food," Mao explained with growing fascination as he watched men and women leave the little old lady, bright smiles on their faces. "She can look into the future."

"Oh," C.C. nodded, her voice flat. "Mao, those kinds of people just make up stuff to make people feel better," she said dismissively. "Come on, let's go look somewhere else."

"Aww are you sure _this _one is like that?" Mao pressed, not yet fully convinced.

"Who will come forward next?" the Great Ping heckled out over the street. "You will be amazed at what fate has in store for you! One donation of _three _coins to learn the course you should take!"

"C'mon, just three coins, C.C.?" Mao pleaded.

C.C. frowned, shaking her head with an exasperated sigh. What they needed right now was to find a place to spend the night, not have a heart to heart with some charlatan. "Well, you told me where to get them, so there just as much yours as mine," she said, giving in as she drew the coins out of her pocket and dropped them in Mao's waiting hand.

"Ours," Mao corrected with an excited smile.

"Just don't get crushed if she doesn't say what you want to hear," C.C. warned, hunching down and placing her hands on his shoulders to lead him safely through the crowds to the stand. _Why in the world do they all line up like this?_

"Well hello there," the lady greeted with a broad smile. "What an adorable little boy!"

C.C. scowled, despite herself. _If you make him cry, I swear I will kick a few more of those teeth out for you..._

"Do you wish to know your future?" the woman baited

Mao nodded, tentatively placing the three coins into her wrinkled hand.

The lady spread open the worn book she carried with her and closed her eyes, throwing each coin up into the air and listening as it landed somewhere on its page.

Mao held his breath as the woman squinted her eyes at the faded figures, calculating them together and determining their corresponding verse

"Seven. Hmm...that's interesting," she muttered for effect, her eyes still closed as she waggled her fingers and motioned the stale air from its pages up to her nostrils.

C.C. rolled her eyes impatiently.

"What?" Mao breathed, his eyes wide.

Suddenly, however upon setting her gaze back down on the book, her eyes went wide, paling as the blood seemed to drain out of her face. She looked back at the pair crazed. "The Abysmal repeated. If you are sincere, you have success in your heart, and whatever you do succeeds."

Mao smiled, nodding eagely.

"But," she wailed. "Beware the six at the top. Bound with cords and ropes, shut in between thorn-hedged prison walls. For three years one does not find the way. Misfortune!"

Mao's smile fell as he took a step backward, his world seeming to spin.

C.C. raised an eyebrow, suddenly taking charge. "Forget it, you can keep the change," she said firmly, taking Mao's limp hand and pulling him away. He looked up at her in confusion as if dazed, saying nothing.

At last looking down at her charge once more, C.C. cocked her head to the side. "Mao, what's wrong?" she asked. "Don't tell me your upset about that fr-"

"-C.C.!" Mao exclaimed, throwing his arms around her legs and holding on tight. His face looked terrified.

"Mao, did you...use your Geass?" C.C. asked, eyeing him carefully.

The boy shook his head.

"Well...you have to understand, it's all made up, alright? It doesn't mean anything really. It's like a game that adults find fun," she assured him, smoothing his greasy hair down with her hands.

"C.C., she...our fortune...something bad's gonna happen to us," Mao whispered fearfully.

C.C.'s fist tightened as she forced a smile onto her face for his sake. "Mao, I have an idea," she said suddenly, eager to distract him. "A way for us to eat well tonight. What would you say to feasting on duck?"

"Woah, no way!" Mao scoffed, his fear evaporating.

"_But_ I'll need your help," C.C. goaded. "I think, that with your powers, _you _could be a much better fortune teller than her."

"How?" Mao asked in confusion.

C.C. knelt down, bringing her lips near his ear. He giggled on reflex, her breath ticking the soft flesh. "All you have to do is use your Geass on them. Amaze them with a few things from their life, stuff nobody else would know. After that, you can tell them something they want to hear, like, that they'll succeed at their task or have good fortune with whatever they're doing. Just make something up for that. Charge them a few yuan each and will be eating duck in no time," she explained.

"Make something up?" Mao asked doubtfully. "But isn't that like..._lying_?"

C.C.'s smile fell. "No, it's different," she managed.

"But how?" Mao pressed.

C.C. shook her head in exasperation. "Because...I said so," she said sharply. "Do it _for me_?" she asked, her voice falling to a tender note.

Mao's tiny heart melted. "Alright," he nodded vigorously. "I'd do anything for C.C.!"

C.C. smiled at her small victory. "Let's go over here," she said, leading him over to a vacant spot in between some of the stands. Having him sit crosslegged on the sidewalk, she snatched up a stray piece of windswept cardboard. Cutting out the Chinese characters as best she could, largely copying the fortune teller just across the way, she held the sign aloft to greet each passerby.

"Come see the amazing boy who told me everything I ever did," C.C. called out in her best cheesy voice, drawing a few puzzled looks from the surrounding shoppers. "Let him prove his power and tell you what fortune shall befall ye."

While quite a few rolled their eyes and continued on their way, after a bit a few men came over, more intrigued by C.C.'s shapely body than any divination. Paying the paltry yuan asked for by the pair, their faces soon changed from that of a pitying man who buys a flower from an orphan to the bewildered delight of witnessing a miracle . C.C. nodded to Mao proudly. The details the boy could easily come up with were astounding, of course, and it was not long before word spread like fire among the simple and superstitious folks gathered there.

"It's incredible!"

"How does he do it!"

"No book or coins?"

"Where did this kid come from?"

"It's like a magic show!"

"Could even the Great Ping know this?"

Soon a sizable crowd had gathered around, clapping in awe at every startling revelation Mao uttered, while others turn red faced and bowed in shame, their fellows applauding them. C.C. and Mao soon found their pockets stuffed with bills as the ecstatic throng demanded more. They were starved for anything to break up the mundane of their lives.

"She's gonna marry me!"

"My farm is gonna reap a double profit!"

"Grandpa will live!"

"I'm gonna be rich!"

C.C. began to rack her brains to find a way to put an end to it. The fortune teller across the street, however, her stand practically abandoned by now, could not have agreed more. Rolling up her sleeves, she angrily stormed over and pushed her way through to the pair.

"Stop this act at once!" the lady spat. "You two are nothing but frauds."

The crowd bent around her, cowering and shying away. Whispers and gasps broke out amongst the them. Some fell silent while others booed loudly.

"We've got just as much right to be here as you," Mao countered.

"What rubbish is that? I have been on these streets for years. I am the oracle of this town, the great Ping! You two are filthy back alley cats!" Grabbing hold of the cardboard sign gripped between C.C.'s hands, the lady preceded to tear it to pieces, casting it away in disgust.

"The 'Great Ping' hmm?" Mao remarked as he stood to his feet, the mocking tone sounding odd from such a childlike voice. His left eye burned brightly as he penetrated her mind with his Geass. "But _you're_ really the fraud aren't you."

"You brat! How dare you!" she hissed. "_I _am a respected member of this community."

"I will now read your fortune too," Mao taunted, the crowd watching the two in silence, mouths agape. "You've made these people believe that if they don't come to you first before they make a decision, bad stuff will happen to them. Sometimes to get them to believe you though, you have to carry it out. Just like...with those all those kids. You made them sick to get their parents to obey. You ruined crops, burnt down houses, spread gossip."

Gasps erupted throughout the throng as they turned toward the fortune teller warily. C.C. bit her lip. There was no way Mao could just make this kind of stuff up, but that meant that things could soon turn worse.

The great Ping's eyes went wide with horror. "You can't possibly..." she stammered, looking frantically from one angry face to the next.

"You handpick the words you read them out of the book, you don't leave anything to chance," Mao continued. "When they obey, you give them good fortune. But when they displease you, its the curses. The people give all kinds of gifts to you. You rule their lives. This whole town even. It's so stupid," he managed. "Hey everyone," he announced, turning towards the crowd. "She's not the mistress of fate or anything. She's just a lazy fraud."

"So that's what happened to my daughter? My damn daughter!"

"You're the reason I can never get out of debt?"

"And for what?"

"Yeah!"

"Get her!"

"Get this hag off our streets!"

"Now, wait a moment..." the woman pleaded, backing away fearfully from the mob who advanced towards her as if possessed. "I made your lives better, now didn't I? I told you good things. I'm warning you, if you lay a finger on me, a terrible misfortune shall befall ye all!"

"Shut up, bitch!" a man shouted, swinging a massive metal rod at her back. There was a sickening crunch and she collapsed to the pavement, howling in pain as she rubbed her back.

Set off in a frenzy, the throng rushed forward, surrounding her as they began to kick and stomp on her. Some picked up whatever they could find, wooden beams or stones, cracking them down against her body as she writhed in agony.

Her swollen eyes locked onto those of Mao who stared ahead, regarding it all blankly.

"_Your _fortune was true!" she shouted hoarsely, coughing blood. "Don't forget. Great misfortune awaits you both! Aaah!" she cried out as someone found a pitchfork and began impaling her repeatedly, bringing it down and twisting it inside her stomach before tearing it free once more.

Up ahead, a group of police officers had heard the commotion and come running, drawing clubs to cut through the mob.

"Mao," C.C. urged, taking his hand. "We have to get out of here. _Now_."

Mao nodded, tearing his eyes away from the grisly sight as he and C.C. slipped away through a series of alleys.

The ran in silence for a while, at last coming to a stop near a restaurant they had loitered around before, gasping as they caught their breath.

"What an evil lady," Mao said, shaking his head. "But that was so gross."

C.C. said nothing, drawing out her share of the money from her pockets and counting the wrinkled bills carefully.

"But...that book, the _Yi Ching_. Our fortune," Mao lamented, looking down. "Now we're cursed for sure."

C.C. stopped, calmly returning the bills to her pocket as she knelt down and placed her hands upon the boy's shoulders. "Mao, somebody wrote that book a long time ago to lead people on. It can give you information that you want to hear, or expect to hear, or seems reasonable or profound. But that only lasts up to a point. Once it has your belief and you trust it, it will heap the most malevolent and wrong kind of information upon you. It sets you up. The more important the decision, the more it will give you an answer to bring tragedy to your life. People like that are liars who speak with forked tongues. Do you understand?"

Mao nodded weakly, unable to shake the dread away.

"_You _are a very important boy, that is why it tried to ruin your life," C.C. finished. "Now, how about some of that fried duck?"

"Yeah," Mao said, taking her hand into his.


	2. Half Empty

**Author's Note: Hey everyone! I still love Mao and C.C.! Thanks for reading even though the updates are spaced so far about-good thing it's not chronological.**

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><p><strong>Half Empty<strong>

"Ach!" Mao coughed as one of those noisy automobiles sped down the road to their right, guzzling thick dark smoke into their air. It smelled like burning asphalt, the boy thought and made him feel a little nauseous.

C.C. quickly raised an apologetic hand and began sweeping it through the air to fend off the pollutant. Once Mao's fit subsided and he stopped coughing, she couldn't help but sigh. She had been in some low places over the years of her existence, but this... Living on the streets, scrounging by to survive while caring for a needy boy who was now bound to her?

He was pulling her away again now, his small hand clutching hers in that curious way he liked to drag her around, its significance forgotten to her.

A family passed by them now on the gray pavement, pushing a stroller inside of which slept an infant. They eyed her and Mao warily, no doubt their ragged vagabond appearance a source of distress for what appeared to be a new couple.

After they had passed, C.C. turned to Mao. "Did you use your Geass on any of them?"

Mao looked up, a slight confusion in his face. "No," he said innocently. "Why? Are they important?"

C.C.'s tawny eyes narrowed. "Mao," she said, her voice hardening to a stern tone. "You _have _to use it as much as you can. Do it."

Mao shook his head with a sigh and rolled his eyes slightly, looking back over his shoulder and focusing his attention on the receding steps of the man. A burning sigil appeared in his eye as he began to penetrate the man's thoughts. First came the surface, mundane musings about various options to take for an afternoon lunch, but after a bit of work he began to pry into his personal history and memories. It seemed this wasn't his first after all. He had had a baby with a girl years ago but left her because he had been too scared. It still seemed to hurt him when he thought about it. Strange.

All the while he could see C.C. watching him carefully, making sure he was doing it, he guessed. He had no idea why it was so important to start reading the minds of everybody he saw.

"There," he said at last. "It's done. Why'd I have to look at _his _mind. He's nobody."

C.C. shook her head. "Mao, I've told you before. I gave you that Geass so you would use it. It binds us together. The more you use it, the stronger it gets. And I need you to be strong. For me."

"Yeah but..." Mao hesitated. He really wanted to be strong for her. But sometimes...he wished he could forget the things he learned from Geass. Sometimes they were gross, or sad or just made him so angry at the people. "You tell me all the time about how I could rule the country some day or something with this, but look at us. We're on the street. We're not going to get there by reading random peoples' minds. "

"Well what would _you _suggest we do then?" C.C. baited, slightly hopeful as a proud smirk came to her face.

To her surprise, however-after all Mao was not the type of kid who didn't speak up-, he shuffled nervously on his feet for a moment. "I...I don't know if I even _want _that. I mean, having your own country _sounds _pretty cool and all, but...it also seems like a lot of responsibility. I just want to have fun. With you."

C.C. scowled, holding her tongue as she led him across the double lane road at the crosswalk.

Sometimes she wondered if she really should have picked him. _No, he's the one. Where others failed me, he will succeed. This time, I'm going to make sure of it._

"Just keep using it, Mao," she said finally, ready to end the conversation. "On everyone you see."

Suddenly, however, an earsplitting rumble assaulted their senses, wrenching their attention towards a black car which looked for all the world as if its owner had lost control under the weight of a drunken binge. Mao's eyes went wide as he stared at the hood of the dark thing as it sped towards them like an explosion. "C.C.!" he managed, wanting in that moment to just get her to safety.

But there didn't appear to be any avoiding it. The vehicle sped on heedless of all rules governing the roads. The crosswalk wasn't safe after all-

His thoughts were interrupted by a sudden blow to his chest, however, and he reeled. It stole the wind from his lungs and left him gasping for breath. He could feel his body being thrown through the air to the pavement hard.

Only...it wasn't the car that had hit him. C.C. had stuck both palms outward and struck him so hard it sent him flying. Out of the path of the runaway car. His eyes went wide and he struggled to bolt upright in between his gasps, only to see C.C. get ploughed by the thing, its front end smacking into her frame with a sickening CRACK, the force of the high speed collision tearing the aluminum end clean off-and into the soft flesh of her body. She went flying too, landing several feet away with her arms and legs all twisted and sprawled out like a broken toy.

Mao's world seemed to stop, and he blinked rapidly in shock, rooted to the sight. The car swerved,_ after _hitting the woman, before screeching to a halt as the intoxicated man finally floored the brakes, grinding around to a stop with a screech.

Mao was already on his feet, running so fast towards the spot where C.C. had been flung, he could hardly feel the ground beneath him. He came upon her and sank to his knees in horror. It looked like the part where her stomach and legs met had been torn out or something, ripped wide open under the afternoon sun with a pool of blood collecting behind her back. This wasn't the kind of picture you were supposed to see in the daytime. This was an awful nightmare.

His whole body shook in place. "C.C.!" he cried out. His hands went to her face, his fingers entwining around her verdant hair and shaking her. But the movement just caused more of her insides to ooze out below her chest and Mao couldn't hold it anymore, throwing his face to the pavement as he choked out a wave of vomit. His eyes began to water. "Please... Don't leave me, C.C.," he begged the body.

Wiping his mouth on his sleeve, he enclosed his arms around her neck, slumping there in the blood, pleading with it to get better as great sobs fell from his tearstained eyes. "I love you..." he whispered, kissing her bruised face tenderly.

His wails began to attract some attention nearby, however, as people began to approach in shock at the grisly tableau.

Words like 'homeless' and 'hit by a car' along with phrases such as 'somebody call the police' and 'who did it?' began to sound on the dim outskirts of his hearing, but he wasn't listening anymore. His world was in silence.

The driver of the runaway car came up as well, however, pushing his way through before alighting upon C.C.'s corpse. He froze. "Oh god, oh god..." he moaned, shaking his head in fear. "It...it was just an accident. I-oh god." He reeked of alcohol.

Something in Mao snapped and he was suddenly on his feet, staring at the man with wild eyes that burned with hatred.

"Oh! Your alive!" the driver exclaimed as a cascade of relief washed over him. "I didn't kill a kid, I didn't kill a kid!" he repeated relieved. He began to laugh at his own good fortune.

"How dare you!" Mao shouted, and everyone took a step back. "I will _kill _you. I'll kill you!" he hissed, hefting up the busted piece of aluminum that had been displaced from the man's car in the collision. In one savage motion, he brought the thing into the man's legs. Hard. He howled in pain, doubling backward as he rubbed his leg frantically to soothe the pain.

"Rrraah!" Mao raged still, bringing the piece of metal down again, now across the man's fleeing back. He collapsed to the ground, his shirt torn and stained with blood from the cuts the sharp aluminum had given him. His boot came up on instinct as Mao came closer to deal the final blow, and a vicious kick caught the boy in the chest once more, causing him to blanch in pain as he dropped the aluminum piece instnatly. His body ached, but another assault earned him a blow to chin which broke the skin and drew blood. As the man finally got back on his feet once again, Mao joined him, coming at him despite the pain.

"Get away from me you freak!" the man exclaimed, his face a mixture of fear and disbelief at the boy's murderous actions.

"Gunkai!" Mao cursed as he rushed forward only to be caught squarely in the side of the head by a punch from the man's fist and dropped to the ground. This time he didn't get back up. The man scrambled away, back to the filthy car he had come in and sped off, pursued by the outraged townspeople as the sound of squeeling rubber split their ears.

Some lingered, hoping to help him, calling him with gentle words and supplications.

"Little boy, get away from there."

"Come with us."

"We can help you."

"The police our on their way."

"No! I won't leave her! GET AWAY FROM ME!" Mao screamed, barring his teeth like a ferocious beast as he covered C.C.'s remains like a parent protecting their child. "I mean it-stay away!" Their eyes went wide, some with fear and disgust, others pity and hopelessness, but they did what he said.

And Mao was left alone with naught but a body that was quickly losing all its heat.

Crawling forward towards her, he slumped down beside the girl that had come into his life and changed it forever. Drawing his arms around her shoulders once again, he layed his head beside hers and closed his eyes.

What he failed to notice, however, was what was happening to C.C.'s torso all the while, blood receding, sinews reforming and bones resetting as flesh was sown back together like new. Finally, she was whole again, all evidence of the crash gone except for her ripped clothes. Her tawny eyes fluttered open, and she blinked staring up at the afternoon light. They shifted to the right, and she was surprised to see Mao laying there against her crying.

"Mao, what's wrong?" she asked, lifting her head to look at him better.

Mao's tears stopped as hen tentatively opened his eyes in disbelief.

_It can't be..._

His mouth fell agape when he saw her sitting upright without a scratch on her, all evidence that she had been hit by a car vanished like magic, save her exposed midriff.

"C.C.!" he exclaimed, barely choking it ut before he threw himself upon her, the tears streaming down his face once again. "You're okay. But how did you..." his voice trailed off in confusion. "Oh C.C. I'm just so glad you're alright. I was so scared. It was horrible!"

A slight smirk came to C.C.'s face at the irony of how precious her life was to him, and how cheap it had become to her. Dying just about every way devised by humanity will do that to you. "Well of course," she replied, drying his tears with the palms of her hands and stroking his hair with her fingers. The poor thing's clothes were soaked in her blood. "I'm sorry, Mao. I should have told you before this. But you..." C.C. bit her lip, momentarily hesitating as she watched those pale blue eyes staring so trustingly into hers.

"I what?" Mao asked, hanging on her every word.

_He'll learn soon enough... There's no need to complicate things yet_

"-_You _never have to worry about that. I won't die. No matter what happens to me," she said at last.

A wide grin spread across Mao's face, all thought of tears forgotten at her incredible words. "That's so cool!" he beamed excitedly.

"...Yeah..." C.C. managed, her tone flat. A siren sounded in the distance, and it wasn't difficult for her to surmise why.

Mao had grown to hate the police. They were always waking them up early in the morning and kicking them, or prowling around the markets telling them to 'get lost' or 'move along'.

"Come on," C.C. said, taking his hand in hers. "Ready to move on to another city?"

"I suppose," Mao nodded, following along beside her.

At length they had gathered what few things they had stashed away, stolen whatever else they would need, and finally abandoned that city for another one of the countless others that arose out of the weedy countryside they now found themselves cutting through. As they walked, however, C.C. kept looking down at Mao curiously. He was being unusually quiet, which wasn't like him at all, especially on trips like this.

"Mao, is somethign wrong?" she decided to inquire finally.

"Well! Uh..." he the boy blurted out, hesitating as his cheeks flushed red.

_Now _C.C. was really perplexed. "What is it?" she nudged him.

"I was just thinking. If you can't be killed, then that means you never die," Mao began.

Confusion flashed across C.C.'s face, wondering at what he could possibly be getting to.

"It...seems like that wuld get really lonely. C.C. were you lonely before you found me?" he finished the thought.

C.C.'s feet stopped as her face fell completely still.

_This boy... Even without his Geass..._

"Eventually it just doesn't bother you anymore," she answered carefully.

Mao looked up at last, his eyes looking into hers as if they wanted to see her soul. "I wish I could be like you someday. Then I'd be able to stay with you forever, and you'll never have to be lonely again."

_...be like me...?_

A soft, knowing, smile came to C.C.'s face in earnest in that moment, and it made Mao's heart melt. "You just might," she said with deceptive sparkle in her eye.

Mao grinned. "I can't wait!"


End file.
